Crossing Eternity
by spellbound130
Summary: Commander Shepard's funeral after the destruction of the Normandy SR1, as seen through the eyes of of her squadmates and friends.
1. Joker

**Disclaimer: **All characters owned by Bioware.

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><p><em><em>"The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for." <em>_–Homer

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><p>He wasn't used to formalities. The last time he'd worn his dress uniform was for the wedding of one of his buddies from flight school. He felt slightly awkward as he adjusted his tie. It had been so long since he'd worn one, he had to use an extranet terminal to refresh his memory on the proper method for tying it. Still, it took him four tries to finally get it right. He stared at the reflection of his newly shaven face in the mirror as he buttoned up his jacket. Golden wings sat neatly above the colorful array of ribbons, standing out against the dark blue fabric.<p>

Taking a deep breath, he grasped the door handle, exiting the sterile hotel room into the hallway. A black transport was waiting at the main doors. He stepped out into the warm summer dawn, the gentle wind on his face as he placed his officer's cap on his head. Alenko, Chakwas and Adams occupied the other seats in the transport.

He said nothing as he ducked inside, fastening his harness and pressing the button to close the door. They were silent as the transport glided through the vividly green Virginia countryside. _This is almost ridiculous. We don't even have a body to bury, _he thought as the transport turned, easing through the black iron of the cemetery gates.

The door opened and he exited into the sunlight. The funeral had drawn a lot of people. After all, Commander Shepard was a well-known figure in the Systems Alliance Military. The arrival of the _Normandy's_ crew had drawn some glances. It made the young pilot uneasy. _Do they blame me? _He wondered. He knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have done, but the question still lingered in the back of his mind.

"Flight Lieutenant Moreau," a low voice came from his left. He turned to face the man, promptly snapping to attention and saluting.

The man returned the salute. "Admiral Lopez, _SSV Puncak Jaya._"

He stared at the man's gaunt frame. His hair was white, and his face was scarred and weathered. _Does he blame me? Is he here to tell me all the "should-haves?"_

"I understand you were the last person to see Commander Shepard alive," the admiral said, hesitantly. "I read the reports, Lieutenant," he continued. "There was nothing you could have done. If it's any comfort, know that Hackett has teams scouring the galaxy, looking for whatever it was that attacked the _Normandy. _Regrettably, the task has him tied up in an administrative hell-hole up on Arcturus, so he can't be here today. He offers his condolences."

"Thank you, sir," Joker replied.

He stood at attention amidst the perfect grid of soldiers. His leg braces pinched his skin as he did so, but he maintained a straight, emotionless face. Save for the silent and awkward transport ride, he'd managed to avoid all contact with Kaidan Alenko, who now strode up to the oaken podium, reciting the fallen soldier's eulogy. His voice was sad yet hopeful as his words filled the somber air.

As the wind caressed his face, Joker remembered the first time he'd met Shepard. Six months ago, he'd just received word from Arcturus that he'd be transferred to a new ship. Initially, the thought was troubling – he'd just gotten to know the crew of the _SSV Midway. _Upon learning that he'd be under the command of the legendary Captain Anderson and Lieutenant Commander Shepard – the Butcher of Torfan – he'd been even more uneasy. The _Midway's _CO tolerated his sarcasm and slight disregard of military dress protocol reasonably well, but Anderson and Shepard? This could get interesting.

It was amazing how close you could get to people in a matter of weeks. He remembered their first shore leave together on Earth. They'd had a week free while the _Normandy's _state-of-the-art drive core was tweaked a little at the Systems Alliance Aerospace Engineering facility in Guayaquil. A couple of the junior officers had miraculously found a deserted section of beach and subsequently went out and bought several kegs, a truckload of firewood, and a gas grill. He remembered her silhouette in the sunset as she and Kaidan took to jumping off the black cliffs into the roaring surf below. He remembered the fleeting thought that crossed his mind as she emerged from the waves, clad in board shorts and a bikini top, her golden hair slicked against her face with the salty water. _She was hot. _There was no denying it, but they were friends. To pursue such desires would be to destroy something far more meaningful – the bond between soldiers in war.

He remembered the cocky, devil-may-care attitude that she took with her into the fights against unthinkable enemies. Her determination to do things the hard way. The awestruck expression on her face when she emerged from the hangar smelling slightly of singed hair and burnt synthetic composite after he'd miraculously pulled a ten-G turn and whipped the _Normandy _out of the explosions of fire, magma, and ash as they engulfed the volcano on Therum. He remembered her stumbling onto the ship and passing out in the airlock after mind-melding with the asari on Feros to receive the cipher – a vital clue that would eventually lead them to Saren. He remembered Garrus pulling her unconscious body out of the Mako after she was blasted with the full force of a biotic pulse from a geth colossus.

And yet, she had a soft side. The side that reached out to Liara after they'd been forced to kill Matriarch Benezia, taking the young asari in her arms and just holding her, as if to say that she understood, and that things were going to be okay. The side that barricaded herself in her quarters and cried for hours after Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was killed in action on Virmire. The side that showed that she was capable of love – the look she got in her eyes whenever she saw Liara T'Soni.

The harsh reality that Shepard was gone washed the happy memories away as the honor guard leader called the soldiers to attention. They fired the three-volley salute, the sharp bangs of the gunshots echoing across the countryside.

Liara sat motionless in her black dress, staring at the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Kaidan presented the flag to her. The political uproar that threatened to come out of treating an asari as the next-of-kin had been avoided by the fact that Shepard _had _no other next-of-kin, and by the fact that she was, well, _Commander Shepard. _Besides, as far as he was concerned, the Terra Firma party could shove it._  
><em>

He felt the pain of losing a friend, but he was an Alliance soldier. Shepard wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but she might have been the closest. Nothing brings people together and blurs the divides of military ranks like commandeering the most advanced ship in the Navy, setting a course into uncharted territory, and then saving the Citadel from its impending destruction at the hands of a Reaper.

After the ceremony, he approached Kaidan. This was the first time they'd spoken since their escape pods had been picked up.

"What now?" Kaidan asked, uncertainly.

"We wait for our orders," Joker replied, trying to remain emotionless.

"Just like that? Thought you'd put up more of a fight."

"Whatever the hell attacked the _Normandy _is still out there. But until we have reliable intel, the only thing we can do is wait, and prepare."

"And then what?"

"We ride for vengeance."


	2. Tali

**Disclaimer: **All characters owned by Bioware

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><p><em>"Nothing is certain in a man's life except that he must lose it." <em>–Aeschylus

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><p>Tears flowed freely from her silvery eyes beneath the pale purple mask of her enviro-suit. She subtly keyed her omni-tool, activating her helmet's moisture-removal system. As much as she hated life in the suit, this was one of the few times she was grateful for it. Growing up – facing the harshness of the world – was hard, but Shepard's leadership had helped. A lot.<p>

And now, Shepard was gone, and all the fear, all the uncertainty, everything seemed to come back. Under Commander Shepard, there was nothing that the crew of the _Normandy _couldn't handle.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned sharply to see Garrus Vakarian standing next to her, staring at her through his brilliant blue eyes. "It's going to be okay."

She wished she could believe him.

Most of the _Normandy's _crew had been skeptical of her abilities when she'd first arrived aboard the ship. Up to that point, her pilgrimage had taken her a few dangerous places, but she'd never been in combat situations like the ones they encountered. They saw her as timid, fearful, and perhaps even fragile. She wasn't the war-hardened veteran that Wrex was, nor did she have the combat expertise of Ashley and Shepard, or the intimate knowledge of virtually every type of firearm in the galaxy that Garrus possessed.

On Therum, she'd crouched below the piles of sharp, angular rocks while Wrex charged the geth and Shepard picked them off, one, by one, from her sniper post high on a ridge. She remembered Shepard's anger when the soldier's voice came through her headset.

_"GET UP, TALI!"_

Over time, though, she came to trust her companions in battle. They weren't stupid; they knew the possible consequences of a complete puncture of her enviro-suit. On Asteroid X57, Ashley had thrown her shotgun aside and full-on tackled one of the scaly varren just as its teeth were about to latch onto Tali's leg. Shepard pushed her out of the way with one hand while still firing her pistol with the other as the horde of Thorian creepers descended upon in the dark corridors beneath Feros.

_"You'll have your chance," _Shepard had said after ordering Tali to remain in cover while she and Wrex took out mercenary snipers from afar.

She did her job, and they did theirs. She remembered frantically keying the Mako's repair protocol as it became engulfed in flames, threatening to cook them all as Kaidan drove it wildly across the surface of Binthu after a trying battle with a Thresher Maw.

_"Damn good, Tali. You're brilliant."_

She'd been so awkward when she asked Shepard for a copy of the geth data that had been recovered from the geth base in the Armstrong Nebula. She remembered the commander's tired eyes as she lay in the sick-bay bed.

_"Err… Commander Shepard?"_

_ "What's on your mind, Tali?"_

_ "I just… uhh, if this is a bad time—"_

_ "No, unless you're gonna ask me to run a marathon. That might be difficult right now."_

Even when she was hurt, when she seemed all used up, Shepard still had a sense of humor.

_"Garrus and Ashley said you recovered some geth data, from a terminal, and I was just wondering, if, you know, I could make a copy, for my pilgrimage, it would be a good gift to present to the fleet … but I wouldn't leave the _Normandy, _not until Saren is finished, but—"_

_ "Tali," _Shepard had spoken softly. _"You've done more for this mission than I could have ever hoped for. Make a copy. Make ten copies. Whatever you need."_

The quarians had been impressed with the data. Her gift had secured her a position as Senior Engineer on the _Neema_, under the command of Admiral Han'Gerrel. She remembered the sorrow she'd felt when she'd stood by the shuttle in the _Normandy's _airlock. They had all been there.

_"I hate to lose you," _Engineer Adams had said. _"Who's gonna calibrate the drive core now?"_

_ "I'm sure you'll find someone," _Tali had replied, smiling beneath her mask. She'd turned to Shepard. _"Good bye, Commander."_

Shepard had smiled. _"Don't be so sad, Tali. You're acting like we're never gonna see each other again."_

In retrospect, Shepard's final words to the quarian were eerie. It was almost as if she had subconsciously predicted her own death. _Don't be ridiculous, Tali, _she thought to herself. _No one can know when or how they're going to die._

When she'd gotten the message from Kaidan several days earlier that Shepard had been killed in action, she couldn't do anything but lie on her bed and cry. She didn't even bother to show up for her shift in the engine room. The lead engineer had tentatively knocked, asking her what was wrong. When she told him, he immediately went to Admiral Han'Gerrel to request a shuttle to take her to Earth for Shepard's funeral. There had been no discussion, no questions, the shuttle was provided immediately. Though most quarians were apprehensive towards humans, nothing endears someone to virtually the entire Migrant Fleet like defeating an army of geth.

"Tali."

The familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts, back to reality. She turned sharply to see Engineer Adams standing to her left, the sadness apparent in his gray eyes. Tentatively, she walked over to him.

"Adams… I…" she stuttered. "I don't know what to do. You, Shepard, all of you, you made me believe in myself, but now, I don't know. I don't know if I can handle—"

"Tali," he said, slowly approaching her and pulling her into his arms. She pressed the side of her face against his shoulder as she hugged him, crying once again. "Shepard is gone, but we are still here. You can handle anything that comes your way."

"Thank you, Hal," she called him by his first name. It was difficult to get used to the atmosphere of formality on human military ships, but Adams had helped. Things on the engineering deck were a lot less formal, which had eased her transition into life aboard the _Normandy. _They were all just a bunch of tech geeks looking for adventure.

"Hal… what happened?" She turned her gaze away from him. It wasn't like it mattered; he couldn't really look _her _in the eyes.

"I wish I could tell you. It's… it came out of nowhere. One minute, I was minding my own business, playing with the electromagnetic charge settings, the next minute, I'm on the deck, and sirens were going off all over. The last thing I remember was Wrex picking me up and carrying me to the escape pods."

Adams returned to rejoin the rest of the human crew as they stood at attention while the ceremony proceeded. She noticed the tears that escaped Kaidan's mahogany eyes, trickling slowly over his cheeks, as he read Shepard's eulogy. The words were poetic, they seemed to alleviate the sorrow that hung in the warm July air.

Earth looked very different in person than it had in all the vids she'd seen. Then again, the vids showed the glamorous city life, the peaceful tropical islands, and the majestic snow-capped mountains.

Arlington National Cemetary. The sea of marble tombstones was endless. Many of them recorded the turmoil that had plagued earth before humans had advanced into space. Humans killing other humans. Humans doing unspeakable things to other humans. She'd read their history. It was hard for her to fathom that any race would use nuclear weapons against itself. And yet, most of the souls that rested here, amidst the warm sun and rolling, green hills, they were victims of the humans' inability to reconcile their differences.

If Shepard had taught her anything, it was that humans weren't the relentless, vindictive war-mongers that many thought them to be. They were just humans.


	3. Wrex

_"I am ready to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter." _–Winston Churchill

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><p>Wrex could not have cared less what the Alliance thought of his presence. Shepard was as great a warrior as any krogan battlemaster, if a little disadvantaged by her human physiology. Still, what she lacked in brute strength, she more than made up for with godlike marksmanship skills. And, she had a soul of iron, forged in the flames of battle. If she wanted someone or something dead, it didn't stand a chance.<p>

_Most humans are weak, _he thought. _But not Shepard. _She certainly wasn't afraid to raise some hell, if the occasion arose. It was probably part of the reason they chose her to become the first human Spectre. She showed no mercy to her foes on the battlefield. _As it should be. _Still, humans perceived such ruthlessness with apprehension. _Shepard was more than a mere human. She was a _warrior. _And not the puny, honor-bound weaklings that usually pass for warriors among their ranks. _

As he stood silently beside his friends and fellow warriors, he hoped dearly that the tips they'd given him about etiquette at human funerals were accurate. As determined as he was, he still did not want to risk inadvertently insulting the one human who held his respect.

His bulky, maroon armor gleamed in the sunlight. He'd washed it for the ceremony – for the first time in years. It was adorned with many knicks and scuffs that had been previously obscured beneath all the dirt and dried blood – souvenirs from many battles. He cherished each of them – they were symbols of his strength as a warrior. Shepard had seen to it that his armor received many more knicks and scuffs. She had _challenged_ him as a warrior.

He didn't understand the point of giving speeches to honor the dead. _They're dead. They can't hear it. _Besides, it wasn't like speeches would bring her back.

_Why is everyone so sad? Commander Shepard died with honor… or at least, she died a death that humans should consider honorable. _Truthfully, had it been anyone else, he would have considered the case of a captain dying to save her crew to be foolish. Shepard was anything but a typical captain. She treated the crew as brothers and sisters, rather than as inferiors, and the effect was profound.

Most of all, she hadn't dismissed him as "just another alien." She wasn't like Williams, though she too had come around to respect him as her brother eventually.

He couldn't help but grin as he remembered that run-down old facility on Tuntau, how they'd stormed in, guns blazing, while Tali had remained uncertainly behind them, taking cover behind the crates while he and Shepard relished in the adrenaline of the firefight. How he wished he could have seen the look on the quarian's face when Shepard had approached her after the fight was over.

_"You know, if you were going to nap the whole time, you could have brought a blanket." _Shepard had smirked.

And yet, in the end, he'd stood beside that timid little quarian in battle, and now, he stood beside her in mourning. His yellow eyes shifted sideways. Garrus' demeanor was strictly military, but such was typical of turians. Before serving with Shepard, he wouldn't have _thought _about serving alongside a turian. As far as he'd been concerned, every one of them was the same, every one of them responsible for unleashing the genophage on the krogan population.

Garrus was different. He had a sense of humor, a sense of compassion. He'd been the one who carried Shepard's limp form to the sick bay when they returned from a mission gone south. He was loyal to individuals, and to his ideals. Not _turian _ideals, _his _ideals.

Shepard had brought them all together.

The crowd seemed to relax after Kaidan completed his speech and presented a flag to Liara. Wrex was relieved … the formal setting of soldiers standing at attention in respect to the fallen was foreign to him. It wasn't that the krogan didn't honor their dead, but their traditions were different. _When I get back to Tuchanka, I'll drink a slug of ryncol for you, Shepard._

Yes, she would like that. He'd known her to indulge in her own form of intoxicants – some amber-colored drink called "Wild Turkey" – so she would understand the custom of taking a drink to honor the dead.

"You were there," Garrus said, his brilliant blue eyes meeting Wrex's.

"Yes," Wrex said slowly. "I was."

A tense silence hung between them.

"I did what I could. I saved as many of the humans as I could," the krogan continued. He cocked his head to the right, exposing a blackened scar on his scaly flesh. "A loose wire hit me as I was carrying Adams and some kid who worked the armory up to the pods. I got back up to the middle deck, and Alenko was ordering people into the pods. He saw how bad I was hurt. I was losing blood. He shoved a tube of medi-gel into my hand and told me to get in."

"Where was Shepard?"

"I don't know." He paused. "Guess I never will. I did everything I could, Vakarian."

"I know," Garrus' voice faltered slightly as he spoke. Was that _emotion _that he heard in it? _I suppose the turian's strict, military demeanor couldn't hold up forever. Not on a day like this, at least._

"I don't know what to do now. I guess I'll head back to Tuchanka. Not many people want a krogan on their ship – not even if he was part of the team that saved the Citadel," Wrex said flatly.

"It's unfortunate," Garrus offered. "But truthfully, we have a long way to go as far as … diplomatic relations … with the krogan are concerned. There's a lot of grudges. A lot of bad blood, on all sides."

"You're telling me." Wrex paused for a moment, looking around at the human soldiers in their blue uniforms. "It's funny. A year ago, I'd have said there was no way in hell I'd ever work with a Spectre. But the past five months may have been the best time of my life. I stayed on the _Normandy _after the Battle of the Citadel because she paid me well, treated as more than just a hired gun, and because for the first time in my life, I felt _good _about the jobs I was doing. Any krogan can kill for credits. But the missions we did – they actually had meaning."

He stopped, remembering how Shepard had yelled at the Alliance doctors and stormed out of the hospital, clad in only a thin cotton medical gown, just six days after the Battle of the Citadel. Her determination to return to duty was truly something else. _Yes. She was a _true _warrior. _


	4. Anderson

"_Only the dead have seen the end of war." _–Plato

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><p>Silently, he reflected on the death of his former XO as he stood alone in the cemetery. Shepard wouldn't have wanted a large, extravagant funeral, but due to her reputation and standing within the Alliance Navy, such a ceremony could not be avoided.<p>

He felt sadness, but also pride at her death. Her willingness to sacrifice herself for her crew was beyond telling. Truthfully, he had been unsure of her readiness to assume command of a starship just months prior. She'd been through a lot, to say the least. But she'd risen to the challenge. She'd become the first human Spectre, and she'd defeated Saren.

The warm summer breeze kissed his face as he stared out over the green fields dotted with white tombstones. _The good die young._

Though they had never recovered her body, a memorial plaque was to be emplaced in her memory. As the face of warfare changed with man's advance into space, it had become considerably less common for the bodies of the fallen soldiers to be recovered. Either they were left to rot, freeze, or burn on some desolate planet, or they were cast into the embrace of space's infinite void. Still, their sacrifices were honored.

Lieutenant Commander Alexandra N. Shepard. April 11, 2154 – July 10, 2183. _Per Sanguis, Ad Astra. _

Through blood, to the stars. The motto of the N7 training school. The few who made it through to the end knew the meaning well. She was one of the few, as was he. Only this time, the blood was real. It was close to his heart.

The first time he'd met Shepard was in 2173 when she graduated from N7. As the first graduate of the school of elite warfare, he was often chosen to present the soldiers with their newly earned insignias. He remembered them all. Seven had stood before him on that cold December day, when the snow and wind had engulfed the streets of London. All of them were now gone. She was the last of them to die.

It was true, N7 operatives often had relatively short life expectancies. The best of the best, they were sent on the most impossible missions. He'd hoped that Shepard would be spared the fate of dying alone on a desolate planet when he'd selected her as the XO of the _SSV Normandy _just six months prior. She was a good soldier – too good to be sent to die on some assassination or infiltration like so many before her.

When he was given command of the _Normandy _and the opportunity to hand-pick the crew, he'd chosen Shepard because he knew her potential, and he knew she could learn from him. She'd been a mental wreck after Torfan, but it made her who she was. He and Hackett had seen assigning her to a starship full-time as an opportunity to save her from herself.

And she had thrived as the _Normandy's _executive officer. It had only been a month that she served under him, but apparently, it had been enough. He remembered the look in her eyes when she'd saluted him as she entered the airlock. At the time, he wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant. Now he knew.

"Captain Anderson."

He turned to see a tall, weathered man in an Alliance uniform. The chevrons on his arm were those of an Operations Chief, and the white cord of the honor guard encircled his shoulder. The number of ribbons on the man's chest might even rival Anderson's own. The captain's eyes drifted to the golden sniper insignia.

"Chief Kannstrom."

The corner of the man's mouth twitched slightly as he tried to smile. Anderson had never met the legendary Operations Chief Anders Kannstrom, but Shepard had spoken of him often. She credited him with her accomplishments as a sniper – as a soldier.

"Never thought I'd outlive Alex," Kannstrom spoke in a low voice.

"I know the feeling."

Both men stood in silence as they reflected on their respective roles in shaping the soldier and leader that Shepard had become.

"You know, we never actually settled it," Kannstrom stared into the distance.

"Settled what?"

"Which one of us truly was the better sniper. Hell, Shep could give me a run for my money back in '75, and who knows how much better she got after serving with the 46th… after becoming a Spectre … after fighting every kind of enemy from every corner of the galaxy."

"You taught her well."

"So did you."

The rest of the funeral guests were arriving. Anderson could easily pick out the crew of the _Normandy_ – not by their appearances, but by the somber aura that surrounded each of them. They hadn't just lost a commander – they'd lost a friend, a mentor, an inspiration.

"Sir," Kaidan Alenko snapped to attention and saluted Anderson as he approached him.

"I understand you are offering the eulogy," Anderson returned the salute.

"Yes sir."

Anderson could see Kaidan's expression falter behind the military bearing that he tried so hard to maintain. "Lieutenant…" Anderson hesitantly prodded. He couldn't imagine what was going on in their minds. They'd all been on the _Normandy _when it had been attacked. They'd escaped the fire, only to be tortured by the pain of loss. "What's on your mind?"

"I…" Alenko's bearing finally broke. "I can't believe she's gone, sir."

Anderson nodded in understanding.

"I wrote this… I don't know. I hope… I hope it's good enough. For her."

"It is, Alenko." _To be honored by a friend so great as he is what matters ... not the words._

They all took their places, standing in silent respect as the ceremony proceeded. The eulogy was beautiful – it truly honored every aspect of who Shepard was. His eyes shifted towards the honor guard. Kannstrom – the sniper – called the commands. Though he didn't know the weathered soldier, they shared the experience of having guided Shepard on her path to greatness.

"Atten-HUH!"

The breeze shifted the branches of the majestic trees around them. Trees that had seen thousands of dead honored in the tranquility of the Virginia countryside.

"Present...arms!"

The uniformed soldiers stood in a perfect grid, each of them at parade rest. Some of them knew her personally, others knew her as the legend she'd become.

"Aim…Fire!"

The first shots rang out amidst the warm July air and the gentle wind that offered them a slight respite from the heat.

"Aim…Fire!"

The second volley echoed across the sky.

"Aim…Fire!"

The lone trumpeter stood in the shade of a large tree. The melody of "Taps" was slow and pronounced. The world was saying its final, poetic goodbye to her.

Anderson wasn't sure what to think of the presentation of the flag to Liara – would an asari understand the meaning behind such a tradition? Still, he knew it was what Shepard would have wanted. Liara was the one person capable of making Shepard happy in those trying months. And if there was anyone in this galaxy who deserved a bit of happiness, it was Shepard.

As the ceremony concluded, he reflected on the soldier – the leader – that Alexandra Shepard had become in her time on the _Normandy. _Gone but not forgotten. She would always be remembered.


	5. Garrus

_"Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once." _–William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

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><p>The sunlight glinted off the turian's blue armor. It had been less than a week since he'd submitted his letter of resignation to the C-SEC executives and his application for Spectre training. The application that had included Shepard's letter of recommendation. He remembered their talk. She'd leaned against the dirty hull of the Mako in the dim light of the armory, her blue eyes alive with determination and challenge as they had met his.<p>

_"What are you willing to give for it?" _

He'd made the decision then to reapply for Spectre training, but in the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel, such things had gotten put off. He'd returned to C-SEC to tie up some loose ends, but as with any bureaucratic nightmare, things take time. And in that time, Shepard and the _Normandy _had gone off onto new adventures. Adventures that had come to a bitter end when the _Normandy _was blown to kingdom come and Shepard with it.

A shiver ran down his back as he remembered the transmission. He'd been in the Citadel comm room when it had crackled over the emergency channel.

_"Mayday! Mayday!" _Static. He raised an eyebrow as his head turned slowly towards the screen. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. _"—control this is Flight Lieutenant Moreau, _SSV Norm—_"_ Static. _"—peat, we're under attack—" _Static. _"—unidentified vessel—" _Static. _"—we're taking damage—"_

His heart had jumped. His friends were on the _Normandy. _Not just Shepard. Alenko. Wrex. Liara. They were all his _friends. _The word was strange to think. Turians – and especially ones with determined, focused personalities like his – were known for appearing cold and aloof towards other races. But _friends … _that, truly, was what they were.

Sacrifice.

He'd come to understand its importance, more than ever, on Shepard's mission. All of them had made sacrifices to defeat Saren and save the Citadel. Williams had given her life. Wrex gave his legacy. Liara gave the only family she had left. Through blood, sweat, sand, mud, and tears, they had prevailed.

He had been there. He'd watched as she walked slowly up to the control console, her form a dark silhouette against the flickering orange light of the flames and the holographic screen projections. She'd followed _his _advice. Even with Liara T'Soni – the love of her life – begging her to reconsider, she'd followed _his _advice. _To hell with the council._ Despite being from different worlds – being two totally different individuals and two different species – they were the same.

Now, it seemed, had come Shepard's time to make her own sacrifice. He'd known that Shepard would die for each and every one of the _Normandy's _crew, and she had done exactly that. _She wouldn't have it any other way._

Human funerals were similar to turian ones. They were formal, and grounded in hundreds of years of tradition. They were less ritualistic than asari and quarian ceremonies, more somber and focused than krogan.

His eyes surveyed the crowd. The human soldiers' uniforms were dark blue, adorned with gold buttons and rank insignias. Colorful arrays of ribbons sat nearly on the left side of their chest. Some wore additional metallic insignias above the ribbons. He couldn't tell the difference between the enlisted and the officers, but they all seemed to be able to.

As his gaze continued out over the neat and orderly rows of white crosses, he pondered the peculiar human custom of burying their dead. If recovered, turian corpses were generally incinerated, and small memorial plaques were placed throughout the walls of the Hall of Valor on the turian homeworld. Human practices seemed to take up an excessive amount of space and resources. But Garrus wasn't one to argue with tradition.

Tali timidly took her place among the "alien" members of the _Normandy's _crew. He could tell that being at a human ceremony made her nervous. She was still very young and shy, and though she'd grown bolder through the battles they'd endured as they chased Saren across the galaxy, the shyness still remained apparent. "It's going to be okay," he placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer her a bit of comfort. He fondly remembered discussing complex technical systems with her on the occasions that he wandered down to the engine room. The two made for a very efficient engineering team – her mathematical and scientific expertise combined with his knowledge of a plethora of mechanical systems was the fruit of many ideas that proved useful if not decisive in many battles against the geth.

As the ceremony proceeded, he did his best to mimic the parade-rest stance of the human soldiers, unsure whether or not it served to honor the dead. Instinctively, he shifted his eyes toward the seven soldiers that stood to his right. A weathered, white-haired man called their commands as they each fired three distinct rounds to honor the commander. His mandibles flared slightly at the sound of the shots – years of service had conditioned him to respond to the sound of gunfire. A human musician offered a slow melody from beneath the shade of a tree, some distance from the crowd.

Liara stood in front of him with the other non-human members of the _Normandy's _crew. He could see her body twitch slightly as she sobbed. She loved Shepard more than anything else in the galaxy. Each of them was the closest thing to family the other had – a situation that served to strengthen their bond as friends, perhaps even as lovers.

Even Wrex – the war-hardened krogan – showed emotion on this day. _He was there. _Garrus couldn't turn his mind from the questions about that fateful day that haunted him. "You were there," Garrus said lowly as he met the krogan's golden eyes after the conclusion of the ceremony.

"Yes, I was," Wrex replied tersely.

Garrus studied the krogan. _What is he implying? His tone is making me uncomfortable. _He relaxed as the krogan continued, recounting the events of the attack, describing how he'd done what he could to save the crew before being incapacitated himself and forced to simply get in an escape pod and go. _He wishes he could have done more, _Garrus read Wrex's expression. Still, the other question lingered in the turian's mind. "Where was Shepard?"

"I don't know. Guess I never will. I did everything I could, Vakarian."

"I know," he couldn't help but show the pain that he felt for losing Shepard. As much as he tried to conceal it, the sadness was apparent in his voice. He wondered whether or not Wrex could tell. _Apparently he can. _The expression on the krogan's face shifted to one of peculiar curiosity.

"I don't know what to do now," Wrex continued. "I guess I'll head back to Tuchanka. Not many people want a krogan on their ship – not even if he was part of the team that saved the Citadel," Wrex said flatly.

"It's unfortunate," Garrus said. The situation presented quite the conundrum. Wrex was a good soldier, an honorable soldier, even, but he wasn't inclined to trust the entire krogan species based on the actions of one individual. _Most of them are mercenaries and pirates. Wrex is the exception to the rule._ "But truthfully, we have a long way to go as far as … diplomatic relations … with the krogan are concerned. There's a lot of grudges. A lot of bad blood, on all sides."

"You're telling me."

The turian turned his head to the right. Liara was crying, more audibly now. He was surprised at how stoic she'd been through the duration of the ceremony – she'd always been one of the more emotional people on the crew.

"Liara," he gently placed his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. When they'd thought Shepard dead in the moments after Sovereign had been defeated, sending the remains of the ancient Reaper crashing through the Citadel tower, the adrenaline of being in battle and emerging victorious had softened the mental blow of their commander's death. Now, the reality of it had been given time to sink in.

"I don't know what to do without her, Garrus," she sobbed.

"Live," he paused. "For her. She would have wanted you to be happy." He wasn't sure what to say. Though turian males and females routinely pursued intimate relationships, they were more physical and less emotional than those of humans and asari.

He turned from her, looking over the crowd once again as they slowly dispersed. _Sacrifice. _There was no question about it. Despite what his father would say, he _had _to become a Spectre. To continue Shepard's legacy was the greatest thing he could do to honor her.


End file.
